


The Bee’s Knees

by royal_chandler



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Imported, LiveJournal, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2019-01-30 12:35:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12653661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/royal_chandler/pseuds/royal_chandler
Summary: One of the boys is stung.





	The Bee’s Knees

“Ow, Chris! Be careful!” Karl shouts loudly, yanks his arm away from Chris’ hold. Chris just takes it back, rolling his eyes at Karl’s uneasiness.

“I am! You’re the one that’s fidgeting!”

“No, I’m not,” Karl mumbles under his breath, winces when Chris places a cold, wet cotton ball to the sensitive skin right above his elbow. “That burns.”

Chris rubs the alcohol in more, lips pursed in concentration. He regards Karl softly, “Sorry, just want to make sure that it’s not infected. There’s some inflammation. You’re not allergic, right?”

“To bees? I don’t know, never been stung before.” Chris gives him an incredulous look. “What?”

He doesn’t get an answer because Chris makes like the fast runner that he is and gets off of the couch in a hurry, leaving Karl confused and a tiny bit annoyed. It’s partly Chris’ fault that he's in this predicament in the first place, Chris and his stupid mandatory daily jogs. Aesthetically, it was nice and all because Chris is a wonder to watch as he paces on pavement, sweating under the California sun. However, Karl isn’t fond of getting up early in the morning, running five miles that only serve to remind him of his aging and how out of shape he is.

Today, he and Chris had gotten up from bed about an hour later than usual, distracted by kisses and persuasive hands. So in result, when they had stepped outside of the apartment, the temperature had been high, around the mid 80s, the sun's rays bright in their eyes. The perfect kind of sunshine for insects to make figure eights in, zipping through the air like stealth agents. And some blasted _bee_ had decided to land a triple axis on his arm, leaving its stinger in his heated flesh.

Karl’s brows furrow when Chris appears as a flash from the back hallway and heads to straight to the kitchen without so much as a passing glance. The kid was hyper-disciplined in the science of randomness.

Chris returns with a bottle of Aquafina and a closed hand. He extends them out in offering, “Here, take two of these. It’s Benadryl, in the unfortunate case that you are allergic we can save a trip to the emergency room. We don’t want you to end up like the kid from _My Girl_ , Karl.”

“ _My Girl_?” Karl echoes, taking them with the hand connected to his good arm. “What’s that?” When there’s another incredulous look, Karl rolls his eyes. “For the love of...not everyone is as pop culture saturated as you, Pine.”

“It’s this movie with Macaulay Culkin about a girl who’s a young hypochondriac...post- _Home Alone_ , I think.” Chris starts to explain, “Anyway his character is best friends with the hypochondriac and she loses her ring in the woods. Macaulay goes to find it and is attacked by a swarm of bees while he’s there. He dies from an allergic reaction.”

“Well that’s something to look forward to,” Karl says dryly. He looks at the pastel colored pills cautiously. “Are you sure that I need this though? My throat isn’t closing up or anything like that.”

“I’m not sure,” Chris answers, dropping back down onto the couch. “That’s why you’re taking it. I can’t believe that you’ve never been stung by a bee before. You’re like 80. Do they not have bees in New Zealand?”

“What kind of question is that?” Karl asks after swallowing the medicine and taking an extra swig of water. He sets the bottle down in distaste. He’s never really liked the bottled water in America, finds it to be bitter. “Of course we have bees. Nice bees that mind their own business and buzz around in meadows and pollinate. Not like the killer ones here, going after the unexpecting with their vicious,” he makes a rather unintelligible motion with his fingers, “knives. I keep telling you that Los Angeles is dangerous.”

Chris laughs, pearly teeth bared. “You’re such a baby and you call me the immature one.” He pauses, considering this. “Weirdly enough, I’m kind of turned on right now.”

Karl is earnestly indignant and Chris laughs harder at that. “I’m not trying to turn you on! A wasp impaled me with its needle and it hurts like a fucking bitch.”

“It was not a wasp,” Chris snorts, “However, I’m sure that the bumblebee would be flattered that you acknowledge him as such—you know, if it wasn’t already dead.”

“Better it than me.”

There’s a pause before Chris speaks again, “Have...how about your kids? Have they ever been stung before?”

Karl finds the inquiry odd, doesn’t hide his surprised expression but does respond. “I don’t believe so. If they have, I must have been off on location filming.” He has to know so he follows with, “Why do you ask?”

The color of Chris’ eyes is light and Karl feels something warm swell inside of him as the magnificent blue softens.

Shrugging, Chris presses a tentative kiss to the sore. “Just thinking about when I was younger, I was incredibly prone to scraped knees and bug bits so there were a few times that I was stung. My dad would put calamine lotion on it. The stuff smelled like ass but it helped, felt so good after a while. He always made things better.”

Karl traces a hand alongside of Chris’ face, “You keep any of it here?”

“No,” Chris says, ducks under Karl’s arm to fit against him. “I’ve become less clumsy. As you know, I still have my moments but I’ve gained some coordination. Sports were effectual.”

Dropping a kiss on Chris’ head, Karl concurs lowly, “That they were.” His hand lingers from the younger man’s shoulder to his chest down to his torso, tickling at the thin cotton there.

Chris covers the fingers, tangles his own with them. “I feel like I’m stealing you sometimes.”

And Karl kind of expects that, had sensed a shift in the mood so he just listens and smoothes his thumb over Chris’ skin.

“When you were with Natalie, I wanted you so badly and felt like complete shit about it. Like a homewrecker. Now that I’ve got you, I’m glad and I didn’t use to feel bad about it. But sometimes I’m thinking about your kids and that’s when I start to feel like the worst person in the world. I’m taking you away from them and don’t say that I’m not,” Chris turns his head toward Karl, slides his lips against the light stubble under his chin. “I’m here tending to your bee sting when you should be tending to their hurts and needs. It’s summer and you’re hanging out with your co-star-slash-secret boyfriend instead of your children. I picture myself in their shoes and I know that I would detest me.”

Karl’s heart tightens and he’s aware of a ring of wetness in his eyes. It’s so damn often that he’s astounded by this man but he’s never quite prepared for what he’ll say or how he’ll make Karl _feel_ more than he ever has. It’s how he knows that despite its unpopularity and moral questionability, he’s making the right choice, being here on Chris Pine’s lumpy sofa—exhausted from exercise that renders him breathless. He's at home here, head-over-heels in love with this man who renders him breathless, always.

“If you were such a horrible person, you wouldn’t care, Chris,” Karl tells him, tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. “You wouldn’t give a damn about who could potentially get hurt as long as you got what you wanted. You’re not that kind of person.” Karl sweeps kisses against the corners of Chris' eyes, his nose and the highs of his cheeks. “You’re caring and a sweetheart, no matter how much you don’t want to admit it.”

“But…”

Karl locks his gaze. “They don’t hate you. I’ve told them _some_ things ‘bout my great friend in the States and they think that you seem decent enough. The longer this lasts, the easier it will get, I promise.” He attempts to make things lighter with, “Plus they’re momma’s boys anyway.”

Chris gives him a ghost of a smile. “I’d love to say that that totally reinforced my confidence but I may be needing a little pep talk every once in a while.”

“I’ll be here,” Karl says with no doubt.

There’s nothing left to say so the words stop. And unexpectedly Karl thinks of bees because as he seeks Chris’s lips, he sympathizes with the idea of rushing to go after what you want—need. He sighs when they finally meet, metaphorically dies and floats off to a heaven of his own.

**fin**


End file.
